


Broken wings and mended hearts; Dancing on strings then torn apart

by Bloodlamb



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, Hannibal is jealous, Jealousy, M/M, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Prison Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Teasing, Will Graham Hates Hannibal Lecter, degradation kink, s2 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:20:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29763678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodlamb/pseuds/Bloodlamb
Summary: Taking place during Season 2 Episodes 5 & 6, what would happen if Will did not ask Matthew to try and kill Hannibal Lecter? Instead, he begins to seek solace in another dangerous man, because at least this one is honest with him. But, as things always do, they spiral quickly out of Will's control. A desire for revenge bleeding into longing, even lust.Reposted due to needing edits
Relationships: Matthew Brown & Will Graham, Matthew Brown/Will Graham
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	Broken wings and mended hearts; Dancing on strings then torn apart

There was something almost refreshing about seeing Freddie Lounds, of all people. Not that the feeling lasted for too long.

“It’s good to see you again, Will.” Freddie barely pauses before amending her statement spitefully. “Let me rephrase that, it’s good to see you in here, where you belong.”

It was interesting to see her play at having moral high ground, knowing that if he asked nicely, she would help him get what he wanted. He has a bargaining chip. She loves to paint him as someone underqualified and overly traumatized. He just needs her to open the door to a necessary opportunity for him. If one wants to open a door when their hands are bound, sometimes they must ask someone to do it for them. He was trapped in here because he refused to rely on anyone but Hannibal. Now, he was learning to rely on everyone and no one, all in the same breath.

Within a few sentences, he already has Freddie taking a seat. A copycat admirer, the wheels were already turning in her head, what a _story_ that would make. Tattle Crime would be booming with views and references to her work for ages if she got the inside on this. When her body language changes, he can already tell he is going to be offered something of substance if he throws out the right lure. Her hands clasp and she sits forward, as if to share a secret between them.

“Are you trying to catch him, or contact him?”

He makes a point of mirroring exactly what she does. This indicates to her that she is being offered something he was only making privy to her. He clasps his hands as if pleading and curls his shoulders forward, hiding their conversation from prying eyes. “I would like to establish a line of communication, and your website seems like a good place to do that.” _Oh_ , she laps it up like milk. She lays out on the table what kind of things she could offer. “I could open it up for you. Ads, editorial, online chat rooms, monitoring incoming mail. I could be discreet.” Now came the catch. She had done this before. Of course, she would turn to authorities if bodies started turning up, but that wasn’t what this was for.

“In exchange for?”

“Exclusive rights to your story.” Her doe-like eyes sit behind a guarded expression. Although she knows this is a dangerous game to play, they are both painfully aware she is the only one who can do this for Will. He has no one else he can turn to with this request. Not a soul. She seemingly had not been born with the ability to feel shame or guilt, and that was precisely why he needed her.

Suddenly, he feels as if two holes are being burned into his back. Will glances towards the door out of reflex.

The orderly Will had been assigned was watching them closely. Nothing had passed between them, so he did not seem concerned for the safety of the situation. He was watching Will quite closely. The nurse’s brow raises as their eyes meet. He had been chewing on his bottom lip, now releasing it from his teeth with a muted pop, letting his eyes wander away while swinging his keys absently. Will takes this moment to examine the nurse a bit more closely. All white like the other staff, almost pristinely kept, baggy clothing. Hiding his physique, why? So that people would underestimate him? He did not look to be the self-conscious type. It was hard to notice unless you were close, but there was a scar that started on his chin and cut its way up over the left side of his lips. His name tag offers his credentials, and the name _Matthew B._

“I don’t have all day, Will.”

When his gaze snaps back to the red headed reporter, her eyes thin and her head inclines, as if to further repeat her unspoken question. _Do we have a deal?_ He lets his head tilt to the side, exhaling through his nose heavily, as if to say, _Alright, alright, I give._ His eyes thin and he speaks lowly, his tone dripping with temptation. “It’s _all yours,_ Freddie.”

As she pulls out her black recording device, her posture shifts to something of smug excitement. “You want to talk to your admirer! We’ll have to send an invitation.” She presses the record button and gazes at him expectantly. He takes a slow breath in, feeling the burning sensation in his back again. As the interview unfolds between them, whenever he looks, Matthew is watching. Every time he catches him staring, the nurse doesn’t bother to look away. He just smiles in a strange way. He gets the distinct feeling that something interesting will come from this deal with Freddie soon. He simply isn’t sure what.

* * *

He had a hunch something was different when his cell was approached by the nurse that always transferred him to and from rooms throughout the building. Will's wrists are shackled behind his back, and he is lead through the dimly lit hall of cells toward the public meeting area. The walk is silent. This was a bit different than usual. It might not be as noticeable to the guards they passed, but Matthew B. was never entirely silent. The nurse rarely took an interest in starting conversation with him besides sarcastic little quips here and there. But the air between them is heavy, with only the sound of their footsteps to interrupt it. He seemed like a snarky, cynical man, from what little he had been able to observe of the nurse.

When they enter the public visiting room which he had lovingly nicknamed _the Circus Ring,_ there is nobody else present. Will's hunch is confirmed by the lack of guards, the lack of noise, anything at all. The silence becomes even more tense as the nurse opens one of the cells. Will follows the ritual of stepping in, putting his wrists through the gap in the door, waiting for his wrists to be freed before taking a seat. At first, Matthew gives him a familiar lopsided smirk and moves to lean against the wall in a casual manner. The profiler was certain that something was going to come of this.

At first, it appears to be nothing but the silent treatment.

Matthew gazes at him as he always did during Will’s visits. He had never quite gotten accustomed to the way Matthew watched. The way his eyes thinned, the quirk of his lips on one half of his face, the aura he exuded was that of a fox face on a snake’s body. The way he moved both drew attention and voided himself of intrigue, but his curious smile and sharp eyes were far too striking to ignore. Maybe he felt this way because he found the nurse watching him very often. A gaze that appeared to be satire of friendliness.

“Would you like a book, Mr. Graham?”

It takes the prisoner a moment to realize his eyes had wandered away from Matthew in the first place. He had been pondering the nurse’s nature so intently that he was visualizing the man in his mind’s eye. Will remains still in his seat. His lips part while his eyes flutter in thought as he grasps at the words he should choose. “I have my imagination.”

Every conversation felt like a careful game he had to play. He needed to choose every statement very carefully, or the web he was weaving would be ripped apart.

He can see Matthew’s head move in his peripheral vision, and the nurse speaks again. “I read your TattleCrime interview. You’re a very articulate man. I agreed with a lot of what you said.” The latter statement seemed to be a tacked-on addition, as he had only been met with silence. Will was forcing him to be more forward about his intentions of starting a conversation. It was safer if someone revealed more of their hand first, than he of his own. “You’re right. People don’t understand much about me.”

This piqued his interest.

Will turns his head to Matthew expectantly, although the way the prisoner lifts his brows and lilts his eyes plays at being surprised. The nurse begins to approach the metal bars that keep distance between them, his voice dropping to a whisper, “Or about _you._ But at least we understand each other.” In this interaction, Matthew’s expression never seemed to be anything less than smug. Even his lips were permanently curved to the tiniest of simpers. His eyes were expressive, and curious, as if he were the living embodiment of a Cheshire cat. Although, he seemed to be trying to appear sincere. He walked slowly with open posture, gesturing one hand out as if his words were an offering, his other hand tucked into the pocket of his white coat. “There’s something we don’t have. Or maybe we just evolved not to need.”

The profiler’s head turns to follow the nurse as he moves around the cage the way a tourist at a zoo would admire a creature in its cage. “You were hiding in the FBI? That’s talent. If you hadn’t have gotten sick, they never would have found you.” Will can feel the sour taste in his mouth permeate through him, and the prisoner strugglers not to let his lips and eyes twist into an irritated scowl. He keeps his expression blank.

“You found a great place to hide.”

“Spend time in a mental hospital, you pick up the drill. You could pass as an orderly, get a job doing it when you get out.” He leans forward with an expression Will finds increasingly obnoxious, whispering playfully, “They may never know you were in.” Will unclenches his teeth to speak as his brow furrows.

“ _Obviously,_ you realize Chilton records every word said in here.”

“Who do you think wired the mics? Or, _unwired_ the mics, as they currently are.”

Will pauses, before giving a brief chuckle, his eyes lilting to the floor in thought. His lips turn upward in amusement as his tongue pokes at his bottom teeth. He was getting too defensive. He needed to ease up, and he needed to stay on topic. His expression grows serious as he turns his attention back to Matthew. “You killed the bailiff during my trial.” His eyes beg the question of him, _Why?_

“I thought it would exonerate you. I had read your file often enough.” Matthew’s eyes widen a bit as he speaks, his head tilting as his smirk vanishes for a moment. “Easy to recreate your work.” And then it returns. “It was… so specific. Though the bailiff was a _bitch_ to get on that stag’s head.” He wonders for a moment if this man had any idea he was just as much a pawn in his game as he was in Hannibal’s. Emotions and thoughts ebb in waves through his mind.

“And the judge?”

“I killed the bailiff,” Matthew seems more serious at this question, his dark gaze glinting as his lips thin into a straight line. “The judge was somebody else.” His hand initially moved expressively, as if he were having everyday small talk. But he tucks his free hand away now. Obviously, this struck a nerve. The nurse turns from their extended eye contact and moves to the door of his cage, picking up the lock. He was done with their conversation. Will was not.

“Wait.”

The man in uniform pauses, letting his curious gaze peer up from the lock in his hand. 

“…Your admiration is improperly placed.” His eyes drop to the floor as he says this. “Although I can’t offer any proof. I wouldn’t be here if I could. But I’m not him. I know what kind of crazy I am, and it’s not-“ He cuts himself off with an irritated sigh, gesturing to the cage around him.

“Criminally?”

“Not yet anyway.” The profiler turns his head away from Matthew now. He didn’t expect the nurse to believe him. No one believed him. Hannibal had made very sure that Will would be the most unhinged, frightening man in a room at this point. He can feel the bitterness sitting in his chest and on his tongue. But he is jarred suddenly from his self-pity as the nurse begins to laugh. Will’s gaze snaps to the chortling man.

Matthew had released the lock at this point to step back and give a deep bellied laugh. His eyes squeeze shut as his lips part wide and show brilliant white teeth. A ring of keys dangles from the fingers that grasp at his own chest. When he is quite satisfied, he heaves a sigh and opens his eyes to smile coyly at Will. “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me act a little more surprised.” His eyes widen and his lips curl into a soft circle, as if he were told a wonderful secret. “Really? I can hardly believe it! I would have _never_ guessed.” The profiler stands, his brow furrowing as he steps up to the door, grasping a bar in each hand. So, he did believe him. This changed things drastically. Matthew grins wickedly from ear to ear, taking a few paces backward, swinging the keys about his finger lazily.

“You knew?”

“Was it supposed to be difficult to figure out?”

Will lets out an agitated sigh and rolls his eyes. He wasn’t offended by Matthew’s demeanor, so much as it felt like he was wasting precious moments, ones that could be spent getting valuable information. He feels like he is back in the morgue, with Brian and Jimmy and Bev, while they crack jokes to lighten the mood after he provides a profile based on their findings from an autopsy. Maybe that is why he finds himself smiling for a moment. Suddenly, everything feels familiar. He lets his eyes meet Matthews once more, and he leans forward insistently. “It seems like you’re one of the only two other people in Baltimore who have enough sense in their head to see the obvious.”

The nurse puffs up a bit at this comment. Will anticipates that meant he took the statement as a compliment. “I’ve quite enjoyed seeing you learn how to navigate manipulation, Mr. Graham. It’s like watching a little chess prodigy play with the masters. I like watching you learn.” His _moment of weakness_ in front of Alana and Hannibal came to mind. Falling apart in front of them, begging for help in all his confusion and turmoil, only to sit and stew in his cell and wait for his lie to fester. Matthew had witnessed so much of his web being woven. In retrospect, it did seem painfully obvious he was manipulating others. _What is communication but a series of manipulations we consent to?_ Hannibal’s voice echoes briefly in his mind. He had taken that one to heart.

“If you already knew, why are you bothering with any of this?”

Matthew ponders this question for a moment, tucking both of his hands into his pockets now as he takes a few steps toward Will. His eyes innocently wander the room as he takes his time to choose his words. “…You’re only alive because he wants you to be alive. And you are only here because you were too much of a risk for him outside these walls. See, _I_ think you know who the Ripper is.” He suddenly makes excruciatingly intense eye contact with Will. The profiler doesn’t look away, tilting his head as Matthew smirks wickedly. “I think he knows that you know who he is.” The nurse paces just a bit closer, holding eye contact. He is growing more and more amused by the minute.

“You can tell if the answer is Yes or No?” 

“Pupil dilation. Did you know that on any given day, you are liable to be lied to between one and two hundred times? Strangers might lie within the first three minutes of meeting each other.” He takes a few small steps closer, cocking his head to the side. “I’ve found it an especially useful skill. Don’t worry, I know that social interaction can be uncomfortable for you. You don’t have to say a word.” There is a pause. “Does he know that you know?” _Yes._

Will is silent as Matthew questions him, squeezing the bars of his cell tightly as he comes closer and closer, their eyes locked. “Do you two know each other personally?” _Yes._ He inhales slowly, and Matthew gives a knowing grin, watching him carefully. “Did you trust him?” _Yes._

This question startles him. His expression changes from an intent stare to something much more vulnerable. He blinks a few times as Matthew peers at him. He feels self-conscious. He remembered how it felt for Hannibal to sit across from him and play at friendly care and concern, all before dipping his fingers beneath his curls and stirring the contents of his brain like soup.

“He never respected you.”

Will felt like there were tendrils squirming in his skull. His lips twist as if something sour and rotten had burst between his teeth and he blinks rapidly, curling in on himself. What was happening? His chest was burning. A lump of emotion wells in his throat. Anger muddied with pain, and resentment, and fear, they burn in his nose and ears and eyes. It churns and swirls until it almost feels like a raging howl bursting through him.

Suddenly, Matthew’s thin fingers wrap around his knuckles. He is wrenched from his earth-shaking emotions by his simple touch. Matthew doesn’t grip Will’s hands at all, simply rests his palms atop them in a comforting way. Everything ebbs away slowly as warmth bleeds through Will's skin, his white knuckles gaining color again as he loosens his grip. Will lifts his head and allows their eyes to meet again. It is an almost intoxicating feeling, the way Matthew watches him with quiet, gentle knowing.

“He doesn’t respect you, Mr. Graham…but I do.”

The prisoner lets his tongue drag along his teeth behind his lips for a moment. He offers a tense chuckle and looks down at the floor, unsure how to respond to this, so he doesn’t say anything. He steps back as Matthew unlocks the cage. The nurse undoes the padlock and pulls the door open, watching him expectantly. Their eyes lock briefly, and what Matthew sees there leaves him grinning and covering his mouth as Will’s eyes wander along the walls. He didn’t want this conversation to end yet. He can feel his neck beginning to burn as his teeth grit with irritation. Why did he have to look so smug about it? Two slow steps let him exit the cage, and he paces forward towards the wall, pausing at the edge of the patterned tile.

“Why are you trying to help me?” Will utters with the faintest hint of emotion.

“Have you seen the way that smaller birds will mob a hawk on a wire?” There is a brief pause. “You and me, we are hawks, Mr. Graham.”

“Hawks are solitary.”

The tension between them is so palpable Will feels the need to swallow from how thick the air is. “That’s their weakness.” Matthew comments. Will listens to the quiet footsteps as they approach, he can feel Matthew’s eyes, a familiar burn in the back of his hair. “Enough of those smaller birds get together, and they chase hawks away.” The footsteps stop behind Will, and the prisoner crosses his wrists behind his back compliantly. “Imagine if the hawks started working together.” His eyes do not meet Matthew’s again. He doesn’t know if he can bear any more eye contact today. But he does glance over his shoulder to express interest in his proposition. The cuffs are tightened on his wrists, and he returns to his cell with Matthew.

Their footsteps echo in the hall, drawing attention to their emptiness. His eyes carefully scan each cell they pass, seeing Abel right beside his. He can feel Matthew’s demeanor shift to be more casual when they leave, the same old nurse that all the guards watching the monitors are used to seeing.

“Why did you want to talk to me?”

Matthew speaks while barely moving his lips, glancing toward a camera while gesturing calmly that he was ready for the door to be opened. A bell with a glaring ring sounds through the hall and Matthew swings the door open carefully and guides Will through by the arm. The prisoner puts his wrists through the hole in the door and sighs. The words begin to form on his tongue, until something changes.

Of his many mental fishing trips with Abigail, Will had learned that he was more than capable of having conversations with people neither present nor alive. As Matthew quietly fidgets with his shackles and the key, Beverly stood there in the corner of his cell, watching him with glowering eyes. The dim light of his cell glinted off her red leather jacket.

“I _had_ wanted a favor.” Will utters, holding her silent gaze.

“Change of heart? I’m always happy to do a favor for a friend. Just say the words.”

Will does not bothering to indicate to Matthew his mind was elsewhere. Beverly’s lips move carefully, contrasting starkly with her casual demeanor. “He peeled me apart the way I did a crime scene,” She begins, taking three steps forward. She stops maybe a pace away from the profiler, watching him for a moment. “Jack wouldn’t believe either of us without evidence. You need to catch him, Will. Catch him. Death is just the end, not a punishment. “

Will chews on the inside of his cheek, this slow interaction happening in mere moments while he keeps his hands loose as Matthew unlocks the cuffs. The prisoner steps forward and turns around slowly. Their eyes meet as another short moment stretches out like years between them. This wasn’t just about his own betrayal anymore. “And lose the one person who sees me?” Will steps up close to the door, letting his eyes convey a longing he had rarely experienced. “I’m too selfish to risk that.”

Matthew’s teeth glide against each other as he shifts his jaw, inhaling through his nose slowly. When their eye contact breaks, he turns on his heels and saunters away down the hall, spinning his keys on his finger.

* * *

Dr. Chilton informs Will during a therapy session a few days later that Jack Crawford had made a quiet request to have access to his visitation logs and recordings of his conversations. “I had to inform them that, as far as I am aware, HIPAA hasn’t exactly gone anywhere. I’d have to have your consent to divulge any medical records unless they had a warrant.” Will’s eyes had thinned quizzically at Frederick’s statement, to which the warden had simply smiled and moved on. It is this conversation he thinks of when, at a later date, his dull afternoon is interrupted.

Matthew saunters up to his cell with a bored drawl, “You’ve got a visitor, Graham.” He had to be a little terser when guards were about. The prisoner stands from his silent pondering at the edge of his bed to put his hands through the slot in his cell door. Matthew tightens the cuffs on his wrists.

“Might I know who it is before I’m put in the shark tank?” Will remarks quietly.

“One of your psychiatrist friends!” Matthew proclaims with a sigh, waving at the camera down the hall so that the surveying security will unlock Will’s door. “Well, I suppose that’s a little vague, considering you seem to be the twinkle in the eye of every pill pusher in town.” Matthew’s hands find the soft spot between his shoulder blades, and he begins to guide him down the hall. “Dr. Hannibal Lecter.”

Will’s aura immediately sours, and the nurse is not blind to this. The profiler begins to rub his tongue against the back of his teeth in irritation. Matthew gently digs the heel of his palm into that soft spot of his back, bringing Will back from his stewing. “Lighten up. They’re getting a bit Thorazine happy lately, so don’t look too pissy. Though maybe that is just the ass dart you need to unclench a little bit.” The prisoner lets out the breath he had been holding in a quiet chuckle.

“Well, I won’t be letting you give me that shot, Mr. Brown. I’m afraid you’d try to cop a feel.” Will remarks, smirking to himself as Matthew feigns a noise of offense.

The remainder of their walk is silent until Matthew unlocks the visitation cage. As Will waits for Matthew to release him from restraints, the nurse leans in a bit closer as Hannibal comes into view at the top of the stairs.

“You alright? Some of these guys put these cuffs on too tight.” The cuffs are suddenly tightened to a point of nearly pinching, causing Will to startle just a bit. He glances over his shoulder, seeing his assigned nurse offer a shit-eating grin in response. “Wouldn’t want to be accused of abusing my ward.” Will exhales slowly through his nostrils, before responding in a sultry murmur.

“What’s the point of restraints if they aren’t _tight_ , Mr. Brown?”

Matthew’s expression lights up, as if he is a cat with a mouse between its feet. “Oh! I didn’t take you for a slut, Mr. Graham.”

“You’ve never taken me before. What would you know about it?”

The nurse seems quite smug. For just a moment, Will’s attention had been completely diverted from the psychiatrist who was descending the stairs. Hannibal can see that the prisoner and nurse share a casual disposition. He watches Matthew with cutting eyes as the nurse steps back from the cage. Matthew simply tilts his head to one side, before retreating towards the base of the watch tower a guard stood in, swinging his keyring around his forefinger,

There is a gnawing at the back of Will’s skull as the object of his contempt descends the stairs. Will finds that Hannibal Lecter’s presence simulates an acrid taste in his mouth. He rolls his tongue along the back of his teeth to savor the pungent flavor as Hannibal paces towards him. An ash gray pea coat hangs over the doctor’s forearm. This indicates to the profiler that Hannibal is not planning on a lengthy conversation, he was simply stopping by. Will allows his hands to relax from their white knuckled grip on the cell bars as he greets the man, “Hello, Dr. Lecter.” The psychiatrist comes to a stop in front of him. He was about to say something he had rehearsed; Will could tell.

“I feel like I’ve been watching our friendship on a split-screen. The friendship I perceived on one side, and the truth on the other.” As Hannibal turns to face Will, he drops his hands to his sides. The profiler’s brows raise as he considers this statement, bobbing his head in a thoughtful manner before stinging words leave his lips.

“It’s a terrible feeling, isn’t it?”

Hannibal squares his posture to face Will fully, and the younger man takes a slow breath in to steady himself.

“Dr. Chilton has made it clear that if you consent, he will release your visitation records and recordings of your conversations during visits, here or otherwise. Looking over these could effectively remove suspicion from you and prove that Beverly’s killer is, indeed, the Ripper. It is difficult for me to believe that the only time she came to see you was when I was with her. Some of the words that came out of her during our recent case…it was as if you were there in the room.” There is a poignant pause. “It would benefit you to be honest this time. You’ve been lying to me to me, Will.”

“Well, I- I don’t have a gauge for reality that works well enough to know if I’ve been lying.” Will allows his eyes to wander from right to left as he speaks, letting the anger surge through him in this moment so that he can stifle it before his eyes meet Hannibal’s again. He can already tell that he is not fully successful in the way the psychiatrist’s eyes hold his gaze, steely and withdrawn.

The prisoner has the painful urge to grind his teeth to dust.

“I think that I shouldn’t have to divulge the contents of my visits or my therapy unless there is reasonable suspicion. Which can be confirmed by the presence of a warrant.”

“But you understand the reality of Beverly Katz’s death. You understand your role in that. Is that why you refuse?” This statement jars the profiler from his bitter internal monologue.

Will’s brow furrows with curiosity as he questions the psychiatrist. “What was my role?”

“Beverly died at your behest.” Hannibal’s eyes hold his gaze for a moment before flitting over his head. “You are as angry with yourself as you are with whoever murdered her.”

Both Will and Hannibal know that this isn’t true. These words are simply one of the many thorns they are using against each other. The poison of this wound is enough to stir his temper.

“Actually, I am singularly angry with whoever murdered her.” He responds in a slow and even tone.

“You ignored my recommendation not to dwell on the morbid. She came to barter for your skill, and you made her pay dearly for it. I wonder if this is how you have always taken your paycheck? Trading one life for another.” Hannibal exhales slowly before continuing. “I don’t expect you to feel self-loathing, or regret, or shame. You knew what you were doing, and you made your own decisions, decisions that were under your control.”

Will’s eyes become steely and cold as the doctor pauses, responding in barely a whisper.

“Oh, you think I’m in control?”

“I think you are more in control now than you have ever been.”

Their locked eyes mimic the cold of the endless expanse of walls they had built between themselves, a darkness that could not be broken by light nor sound. This moment is finally ended by Dr. Lecter, whose gaze seems to peer through Will, rather than meet his eyes.

“I’ll give Alana Bloom your best. Goodbye, Will.”

Hannibal’s footsteps recede across the marble tiles, leaving Will with his grief and his anger. They dance intimately in his chest, fill his lungs with fire, scorching the back of his throat with feeling. It is such an intense feeling that when Will lifts his head to let out a heavy breath, he fully expects smoke to pour from his lips. When the psychiatrist exits through the metal doors at the top of the stairs, a blaring noise sounds overhead.

Will pays no mind to Matthew approaching with his familiarly lazy posture. There is no playful banter as the shackles tighten around him. There is no attempt to distract him as he stares absently into space. Only when they have exited the visitation room and taken a turn that does not lead to his cell is the silence broken.

His irritated thoughts cool for a moment as Matthew guides him by his wrists down the hall. As Will turns to glance over his shoulder, the nurse offers an amused smile at the bewilderment Will tried to hide. The profiler squints and tries to silently determine what exactly Matthew was doing. He has no luck glowering at his hyena-like grin. “Where exactly are you taking me?” Will’s tone is suspicious, his eyes turning forward again as they take another turn into a long corridor. The right wall has a smattering of doors, while the left houses tall windows through which sunlight pours.

“I’m taking you on a walk, Mr. Graham.” Matthew responds casually. He doesn’t bother to hide from Will that he is quite proud of himself for doing something the prisoner was not expecting.

“Why exactly are we walking around the hospital?”

“We are _not_ taking a walk around the hospital, Mr. Graham.” Matthew almost appears irritated that something so boring would be suggested!

Will’s expression twists with continued suspicion as he tries to figure out where exactly they are going. When they pause in front of two tall glass doors, surprise breaks his scowling expression. “This hospital has a garden? I didn’t think anyone kept in this place was well enough to see the light of day.” He glances back at Matthew again, “You still haven’t answered my question.”

The nurse’s expression does not waver from pleasant amusement. “You seemed tense, Mr. Graham. Due to your recent progress with Dr. Chilton, and your continued safe behavior in visits and in your own time, he could be… convinced to loosen up your restrictions.” He flashes his badge to the guard at the door, who nods and opens it for the two men. Will slowly steps down from the lip of the doorway onto a concrete walkway. His eyes wander across flowering bushes and well-tended trees, a cool breeze gently raking through his hair like fingers on his scalp. Matthew watches him silently as the prisoner takes in a deep breath of fresh air for the first time in ages.

Suddenly, Will is blinking rapidly, his eyes stinging with emotion. “Oh.” It had been so long since he had smelled anything other than the hard water from his sink or chalky bar soap. He exhales shakily as Matthew leans in by his ear.

“To answer your question, Mr. Graham… You’ll owe me.”

This response causes the prisoner to chuckle dryly, rolling his eyes as the nurse pats his back firmly before pushing him forward. Will makes sure to take slow, deep breaths as they walk, gazing up at the cloudy sky above. The smile that spreads across his cheeks is genuine and vulnerable. He knows that Matthew is watching the way his expression changes, but Will cannot bring himself to care. This feeling, he had almost forgotten the way it warmed his chest. Happiness. “Thank you, Matthew.”

The nurse’s smirk changes from cheeky to pleased as he glances away for a moment. “What are friends for?” He utters quietly, the gravely tone of his voice lilting on the breeze passing through. He keeps one hand on the space between Will’s shoulder blade to guide him as they walk slowly. They pace in silence for a time before Matthew’s eyes return to Will’s face.

“It seems like Dr. Lecter is the only person who gets under your skin of all your visitors.” He remarks casually. Will finds himself unable to be surprised that instead of dipping his toes in the water, Matthew would drive right into his curiosities. The relief in the prisoner’s face drains away at the mention of the psychiatrist. At first, he doesn’t deem Matthew’s statement with a response. The nurse continues to watch him, but as the silence grows between them, his body language shifts. He stands a bit further from Will, looking forward. Waiting. Barely touching him at all.

Soon the lack of proximity becomes too uncomfortable to ignore. “He’s the reason I’m in here. The only person who listened to me about him was Beverly. I told her not to go looking for him. I told her not to get close to Hannibal Lecter. Look how well that went.” Will offers a bitter sigh while collecting his thoughts. “Worse than that, he lied to me. He is lying to _everyone,_ and no one living believes me … No one but you.”

Matthew draws closer as Will speaks, putting the prisoner at ease again.

“The least he could do is be honest with you. You deserve that, Mr. Graham.”

“Please, Call me Will.” The prisoner corrects gently, glancing over at the nurse guiding him down the winding path. Matthew’s eyes hold Will’s gaze as a please smiles spreads across his face. The nurse rubs his hand gently up and down Will’s back, from between his shoulder blades to the base of his scalp.

“I would always be honest with you, Will.”

The prisoner’s eyes thin to a playful squint. Now he is the one to smirk and tease Matthew. “Of course, because you’re such an honest man. A 9 to 5, go to church on Sunday’s kind of guy. Isn’t that right, Mr. Brown?” The nurse feigns offense and holds his own chest with one hand. Will’s taunting expression splits into true amusement, laughter bubbling from his lips.

“You _wound_ me. I’m a lot more fun than that! Do you really think I’m so boring?” Matthew protests.

The prisoner’s lips twist into a cheeky smile once more. “No. You play at being boring for most people. I find you interesting.”

Matthew’s lips part as he grins right along with Will, biting his tongue playfully, eyes thinning as he lets his fingers graze through the curls at the base of Will’s skull. “Quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

Unbeknownst to the two, through the maintenance door that is positioned near the front door, someone watches them. Maroon eyes watch with simmering fury as Will’s cheeks wrinkle with playful amusement. Full, pouting lips purse and growl as Will’s eyes wrinkle with crows’ feet as he laughs. Hannibal Lecter feels one of the only emotions he understands as Matthew Brown guides him around the curve of the path to walk back into the garden. The psychiatrist smooths out the front of his suit as their backs turn through the doorway.

Yes, this feeling had to be anger. But it was tainted with something. He watches the way Matthew massages the base of Will’s skull with his thumb, the way Will unwinds beneath the smallest of touches, their quiet conversation melting away behind the noise of street traffic. Hannibal feels a painful stab in his chest, as if his heart were slowly filling with frigid water. The sight of Will smiling was like the bitterness of chocolate on his tongue without the wave of delight that followed. Will was no longer happy to see him. The profiler no longer wanted to laugh or talk with him. He was jealous. So jealous.

He might just kill Will Graham for this. 

Will is surprised when he feels disappointed as the concrete walkway deposits them once more at the doorway leading back into the hospital. His smile falters, his shoulders sinking, and a heaviness settles on him. For just a moment, he had let himself be at ease, enjoying the fresh air and Matthew’s company. Maybe that had been a mistake. As the nurse guides him back inside, his expression becomes sullen and distant once more, his thoughts returning to his visit with Dr. Lecter. Matthew notices the shift in his affect and rubs his thumb gently at the soft part between Will's shoulder blades while taking him down the hall. “Can’t stop thinking about him, hm?”

When the question is posed, Will debates whether he wanted to answer. The prisoner decided he wanted Matthew’s comfort more than he wanted to be reserved. “He has a way of worming his way into my head. He has taken up residence in the deep cracks inside me. In areas where fingers cannot fit. Sitting in shadows that light cannot reach. A dull ringing in the quiet, and the more I try to ignore it, the worse it gets.”

Matthew rewards Will’s vulnerability with a firm grasp on the back of his neck, squeezing in such a way that it grounded him in the present moment. “Is your imagination going to be enough to distract you, Mr. Graham?”

“Oh, I won’t be sleeping much at all tonight. It’s alright.”

Matthew is silent as he guides Will down a corridor of cells. The familiar exchange of alarm, open door, and unlocking shackles begins to take place. But as the nurse moves to unlock Will’s shackles, Matthew grips one of Will’s wrists tightly. His skin was warm. Will lets out a shaky sigh of relief at the grounding touch. The nurse leans in by his ear. “You need an outlet for all this energy. I can help with that.”

The statement is almost sultry. When Matthew whispered to Will, it almost always sounded like that. Will did not want to admit to himself that he enjoyed it. “I’m going to owe you so many favors that you’ll have to always know where to find me.”

“I like it that way.” Matthew carefully unlocks each wrist while rubbing his thumb along Will’s skin, pressing down on his arteries to feel Will’s thrumming pulse. “Knowing where you are at any given moment. Knowing exactly where I can find you. Pulling any string I want to make the moment just right.”

Will’s wrists are suddenly freed of both shackles and touch. He feels bare without them. The prisoner rubs his wrists, turning to see Matthew’s eyes before the nurse takes his leave. An empty longing settles in the prisoner’s chest as he watches Matthew saunter down the hall with purpose in his steps.

* * *

Hours pass, curfew is called overhead and Will still finds himself unable to sleep. He had spent his time pacing in his cell, doing pushups and sit ups, eating his dinner and taking his scheduled shower. The quiet moments where he sat or laid on his bed stretched themselves out till they felt like years. It still surprises him when he hears footsteps down the hall. It was not a guard patrolling, he was familiar with the two most common night shift guards, and their steps did not sound like this. They both moved slow, their steps were heavy but not loud, they took their time to scan the area. He turns onto his side, focusing his hearing.

Matthew slows to a halt in front of his cell, staring at him silently. He swings a pair of handcuffs around one finger almost impatiently. He wasn’t smiling. His gaze had a familiar cutting weight to them, but his lips purse tightly enough that Will can see the nurse’s tongue play over his teeth behind them. The prisoner slowly swings his legs over the edge of the bed, pushing himself to his feet. Matthew motions for him to stay quiet as Will paces forward quietly. Without a word, Will turns and puts his hands through the slot in the door, allowing Matthew to shackle him. His door unlocks, and Matthew pulls him through. No alarm sounds overhead.

The hall is painfully quiet but for their footsteps. Matthew guides him through the halls on a familiar path, though it looked different in the low light of lamps few and far between. Will waits until they are a good distance away from any cells to speak. “Where are you taking m-“ Matthew’s hand sharply moves from its place on his back to the base of his skull and squeezes there. Will’s breath catches in his throat and he goes completely silent. They had stopped walking at this point. Matthew carefully scans the area, before they continue moving. The prisoner does not try to speak again just yet. It seemed to him that Matthew was doing something rather risky.

Matthew guides Will down the stairwell into the large visiting room he had been caged in hours prior. There are no guards. It is dark but for moonlight peeking through the windows. The prisoner scans the room in confusion as he is lead to one of the empty cages. As he is locked in and his wrists are released, he decides to try asking again. “Matthew, what are we doing here?” He turns to face the nurse, only to find an animalistic pair of eyes watching him, calculating and eager.

A hungry hawk was watching him, waiting to strike.

Will feels a painful lurch in his chest as his heart races. He could tell Matthew wanted to rip him apart in some way. The nurse stays a few paces back, silently watching Will. The prisoner feels his tongue and throat becoming painfully dry. He swallows and takes a seat, clasping his hands in his lap as he waits for Matthew to decide he is ready to speak.

“There is something so beautiful about color at night. How everything turns silver, blue, and black.” Matthew begins, circling the cage with calculated steps, his voice raspy and deep. “Your hair is so dark it looks like the moon is reflecting off water. Your eyes look like the murky depths that hide something so special and frightening.” He comes closer and closer, enjoying the way Will seems to squirm in his seat, trying to keep his eyes on the nurse that circles him.

Will felt trapped. He knew that Matthew could tell he liked it.

“Blood doesn’t even look like blood at night, it looks black. Black as the skies above... Beautiful things happen in the dark, don’t you agree?” Matthew offers a familiar smirk now, standing about an arms-length away from the cage door. Will does not stand yet, taking a deep breath before he responds.

“Most people who fear the dark don’t truly fear when the lights are out. They are afraid of what could be lurking right before them. If they can’t see their hand in front of their face, there could be something sinister lying in wait…ready to pounce.” Will’s voice is low and even, and he speaks slowly to keep himself calm. “You look like you’re ready to pounce.”

“Would you like that?”

Ah. So that was where this moment was leading. Will stands from his seat and moves till he is pressing up against the door of his cage, his wrists settling on one of the bars loosely. “What if I did, Matthew?” He whispers lowly, pushing the choice back to him.

The nurse smirks and steps closer as well, letting his eyes wander from Will’s face all down his body, tracing a burning trail up Will’s belly as they return to settle on his lips. “I can’t deny that I am tempted. So much potential bottled up in a cage. I think I would quite enjoy uncorking you and pouring everything out. I wonder what kind of mess you would make.”

Will grits his teeth and swallows slowly as Matthew stops in front of him, breathing in through his nose as the nurse grasps his wrists, only to exhale shakily when Matthew’s hands travel up his forearms. The nurse takes his time with this. His fingers caress and grasp at Will with patient curiosity. Will feels like his heart is going to burst out of his chest as they lock eyes.

“Do you trust me, Will?”

The prisoner licks his lips. “That is a complicated question.”

Matthew’s brow furrows and he shushes Will gently, massaging his hands back down over Will’s forearms. “It’s okay, Will. I see you. Just like you see me, remember? I would never hurt you. I would _never_ lie to you.” The burning feeling that courses through the prisoner is almost overwhelming. It makes his knees weak, it makes his fingers tremble as Matthew gently squeezes his wrists again. “Look at me, Will.”

It was a mistake. Matthew’s burning eyes make Will certain of one thing- he needed this. He needed Matthew. He needed the weight of his presence in a room, the cutting taunt of his smile that took nothing seriously, the push and pull of his desire.

“Do you trust me?”

Will lets out a trembling breath before answering, “Yes.”

Matthew smiles warmly, and Will feels a flutter in his chest as Matthew carefully maneuvers the prisoner’s hands. Moves them through the spaces of two bars at waist level before the shackles tighten over them again. “Just relax. All this tension and frustration, you must be so wound up. As your nurse, I can’t just ignore this.”

Will’s eyes flutter as the nurse moves his hands between the bars to trace his shoulders and massage his chest. “I thought this kind of thing fell under abusing your power in the patient provider relationship, Matthew.” He tries to keep his tone light and airy, to sound confident in his teasing. Matthew’s eyes return to Will’s while the nurse hooks his finger beneath the first button of his jumpsuit.

“Do you want me to stop, Mr. Graham?”

“I told you to call me Will.”

Matthew smirks wickedly, his hand traveling to grip Will’s jaw. It is a slow motion, but Will still startles as Matthew squeezes his chin between his thumb and fingers. “Do you want me to keep going, Will?”

“…Yes.”

Matthew doesn’t move. Longing twists in Will’s belly, so the prisoner whispers needily, in a way that he knows will spur Matthew onward. “ _Please?”_

The nurse tongues his bottom teeth with growing frustration, and both his hands move to unbutton Will’s jumpsuit down the front, the movements are less controlled now. “You know just how to get what you want, don’t you?” The nurse’s voice is low with gritty impatience, but as his hands begin to massage and wander along Will’s chest and hips, they both let out soft noises of relief. Matthew wastes no time in hooking his thumbs under the white t-shirt layered beneath the jumpsuit, and Will lets out a soft groan of gratitude as their bare skin meets.

“I can only take what you’re willing to give me.”

A trembling sigh of longing hisses through Matthew’s teeth as he pushes his hands upward, letting his thumbs drag over Will’s nipples. “Oh, Will. I’d let you take, and take, and take. You’re a starving man, I will sate that hunger.” The nurse bites his lip as he rakes his nails gently over Will’s rib cage and belly. The shudder that ripples through Will’s body elicits an almost snide laugh from Matthew. “I have no problem with doing you favors. I wouldn’t mind if you were drowning in all the little debts you owe me. I want to always know where to find you. You would never need to worry about me. I’d never, ever leave~” Will’s eyes roll back as the prisoner lets out a needy moan, and Matthew laughs at him as he jerks his wrists against the shackles desperately.

“But that’s what you want, isn’t it? Someone to need you. Someone to worship every part of you. Someone you can adore in return. To tangle in a frenzy of fire and bone and gnawing teeth until the spark of your life explodes and lays waste to the world.” 

Every word feels like a wet, hot tongue dragging across Will’s bare flesh. A pathetic whimper slips out, and Matthew practically drinks it up. It wasn’t that Will wanted to submit to him. Will wanted to submit to his own desires. Every impulse, every thought flitting through his head. Matthew was peeling away the layers of his resolve, and he loved watching his prisoner squirm.

Matthew’s nails lift from Will’s skin suddenly. All that he lets Will feel is his grazing fingertips dancing below his belly button playfully. Will squeezes his hands in fists so tight that every knuckle turns completely white, his lips pressing together in a thin line, as he struggles to hold himself together beneath his teasing. Sweat begins to bead on his forehead as Matthew leans into the cage door to whisper sweetly.

“Tell me what you want.”

Will whimpers in frustration. If he said it out loud, his resolve would crack! He would have to admit that he wanted Matthew so badly every nerve end is screaming.

“Oh, is that too hard? _You poor thing,”_ Matthew simpers with a mocking tone to his voice. “Just look in my eyes. I’ll make the questions very simple. You don’t even have to speak.” The wicked amusement in his eyes makes Will quiver and nod compliantly.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

Will’s breath comes out trembling. He does not know what Matthew is reading in his face, but he seems to get the answer he wants.

“Do you want me to pull these pesky clothes out of the way?”

 _Yes, yes!_ Will wants to growl and snap back, but he can’t find it in himself to do anything but whine.

“Ohh, don’t cry. It’s okay. I’ll take care of you. You’re being so patient, aren’t you?” Will can’t tell if Matthew is praising him or degrading him, and he isn’t sure which one is worse. Matthew’s fingers tease around the hem of his briefs slowly. This slow movement is sharply contrasted by the way the nurse wrenches the clothing down beneath Will’s jumpsuit, freeing his half-hardened cock. The prisoner jolts and gasps in surprise, jerking back. Matthew says nothing and does not touch Will, giving the man room to recover from being startled. Only when Will steps back up to the cage door does Matthew touch him again.

“You really do trust me.” Matthew whispers passionately, his palms pressing to Will’s lower abdomen. “Everyone pushes you, demanding things, watching you. They see you just like this, an animal in a cage. We’re not like them, Will…” His tone has taken a hard switch from snide to doting. It is worse than degradation. Will’s neck and face color darkly with embarrassment as Matthew’s thumbs rub through the tuft of dark hair above his swelling shaft.

“Just relax. Just relax, Will. I’m right here. I’m always here.” The nurse’s gravelly voice travels downward as he kneels on both knees, causing Will to tense up with surprise. The prisoner lets out a strangled sigh as Matthew’s warm hand wraps around him. The nurse pulls Will’s shaft out from the open front of his jumpsuit, their gazes tangling with burning desire as the room becomes heavy with their heady sighs.

“Stay still. Can you stay still for me?”

Will’s grip on the cell bars loosens as Matthew waits for him to respond. He nods gently.

“Good. Good boy!”

“I’m not a dog…” The prisoner’s eyes wander away as he musters a tiny pout. When Matthew chuckles, he cannot help but smile.

“You like being praised, Will. I don’t mind.”

Normally, Will is able to produce a snarky, even mean retort. At this moment he cannot form a single coherent thought. As he sputters in frustration, all he can think to say in response is, “Oh, fuck you!” His grumbling stops suddenly in favor of shivering as Matthew’s palms loosely grasps him, pumping up and down slowly. The nurse makes sure that when he next speaks, his hot, damp breath spills over Will’s sensitive head.

“Not even a little foreplay? You’re so demanding. Whatever am I going to do with you, Will?” He lets out a deep sigh as his lips inch closer. He lifts Will’s cock up so that he can barely press his lips to his frenulum, holding eye contact the entire time. He presses devious little kisses all along the underside carefully between words, “What in the world am I going to do? Will, Will, Will…” The prisoner’s grip becomes white knuckled again as Will’s jaw drops in a silent moan. Matthew continues to press gentle kisses as his lips wander down, his mouth slowly parting so that he leaves warm, wet circles with each kiss towards Will’s base. When he can’t go down any further, Matthew slides his tongue from bottom to top.

Poor Will has to squeeze his eyes shut to resist the wave of sensitivity that rushes through him. He grinds his teeth together so hard it starts to make his temples ache. Matthew exhales shakily at the way Will’s expression strains with exertion. He loved the way Will tried to control himself. He couldn’t wait to tear apart Will’s resolve with his bare hands! The nurse lets out a lewd moan, reaching into the cage to grasp Will’s hips and wrench him forward. This shoves the prisoner’s shaft up against his mouth and cheek. Will offers a disgruntled noise as Matthew kisses and sucks messily at whatever his lips can reach.

“ _Fuck,_ Matthew…! You seem just as impatient as I am.” The prisoner whispers this with a strained chuckle. His fingers unwinding from the bars of the cage so that he can reach through and curl them through Matthew’s short hair. The nurse continues to suck and lick and tease until he has taken his fill of Will’s soft moans and feels that Will is as hard as he can get from teasing alone.

“I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been waiting for this.” Matthew utters gently, his hands massaging and squeezing Will’s hips as their gazes meet once more. “But I’m not opposed to doing this for the rest of the night. Teasing and touching you and listening to every little noise you make.” A wicked smirk spreads across his lips as Will tenses up from the thought of it. “Oh, but you wouldn’t be satisfied, would you?” With that, he begins to stroke Will. Slowly, but his grip is _tight,_ making the prisoner gasp and squirm.

“I wonder if you could take it. Being teased and tortured until your legs are trembling. I wonder if you’d just beg me to rub you out quickly to relieve the aching pain of needing to cum. I’d make you suffer with it for hours and hours, just to hear your sweet moans. I can’t imagine your voice sounds any more beautiful than it does right now, Will.” He squeezes just beneath the head of Will’s cock, dragging his tongue over his sensitive tip. Will lets out a frustrated snarl that devolves into desperate moaning. “Oh? You’re not happy with that? Show me. If you want something different, then do it. Take it.” Matthew wrenches Will’s hips forward again, gritting his teeth against him.

“ _Do it. Take me._ That’s the price you have to pay, right? If you want something, you have to admit it. You have to want it so bad that nothing else matters. Your image, your shame, your life…show me that you want this more than anything else!”

Feral desperation rips through Will so violently that all he can do is call out in pure lust as he grasps the back of Matthew’s head and shoves between his lips. Unless Matthew pushes him back, some indication that he can’t breathe, Will presses into Matthew’s mouth as far as he can. Will’s eyes fly wide before rolling back as he moans loudly in pure relief. The nurse inhales sharply, slurring and coughing weakly around Will, before his entire body unwinds. His eyes seem to smile so brilliantly, even though his lips are wrapped around Will so deeply he can’t say a word. He suckles and slurps at Will playfully, lapping his tongue around him as Will comes to his senses.

“You are such an ass!” The prisoner growls out. He pulls Matthew back so that the nurse’s lips curve just around the base of his tip, watching him with heaving breaths. “You don’t care if I submit to you. You just want me to lose control. Is that right?” Matthew’s wicked gaze is enough of an answer for him. “Fine. _Fine,_ I’ll give in, and take exactly what I _want.”_

Matthew doesn’t try to speak. He moans blissfully, breathing heavily through his nostrils as Will holds either side of his head to pull him up against the cage bars with every thrust. The prisoner goes slow at first, giving the nurse time to adjust to his size, to pace his breathing. Matthew sucks hard whenever Will slips out from between his lips. His cheeks cave in as he slurs around Will eagerly, not wanting to let him pull out. White hot pleasure twists through Will’s belly, shooting through his arms and legs with electric intensity.

The sound of Matthew’s nose and lips meeting Will’s stomach and base is drowned out by the prisoner’s gruff noises of ecstasy. The tighter Matthew squeezes his lips, the harder he rubs his tongue in circles around him, the rougher Will gets. He does not lose himself entirely, Will is careful to check on Matthew, but he is always met with the nurse looking completely blissed out. Will had finally broken out of his shell. He was giving into his deepest urges. He was like an animal, chasing the high he needed, while giving himself completely to Matthew.

Matthew would take anything Will gave him, every kiss or strike or scream. He would tangle with the fledgling killer until neither of them knew where one ended and the other began.

At first, Will attempts to pull away from Matthew when he is on the edge. That moment of hesitation is more than enough for Matthew to feel the need to act. His palms grip Will’s hips with a bruising tightness, wrenching his hips roughly up against the cage door, burying Will between his lips till he is touching the back of his throat.

Will’s voice devolves into desperate cries. His orgasm rattles him deeply until his legs tremble. Matthew’s hands move till one hand shoves into his lower back and the other arm curls around the backs of his thighs, holding him up against the door, drinking steadily from Will’s twitching member. The prisoner whimpers helplessly as all the infuriated energy drains out of him, his body going weak when he is spent. Matthew bobs his head slowly up and down a few times, eliciting rough spasms and cries from Will as sensitivity lurches through him in an almost painful way. With a harsh suck, Matthew drags his lips away from Will finally, and he swallows anything left in his mouth. Will’s knees knock into the cage door as he lets go of Matthew’s head to grasp at the cage door and keep himself steady.

There are no words as the nurse carefully tucks Will back into his clothing, fixing his shirt and briefs before standing as he buttons up the front of his jumpsuit. He then wipes his thumb over Will’s damp brow slowly, shushing the prisoner’s panting gently as he tucks Will’s dark curls away from his face.

“There we are… better?” Matthew murmurs softly, his expression devoid of any sneer or playful intent. His eyes are soft as he takes in Will’s tired face. Will feels a wave of exhaustion settle on him like a blanket of bricks. He lets out a soft hum of agreement, smiling blissfully. Matthew seems quite pleased with this response. He unlocks Will’s wrists and opens the cage door, keeping his hands on Will at all times. “Cross your wrists behind your back. No cuffs this time, just walk like normal, okay?”

Will’s body and head feel as if they are floating through the air as Matthew guides him back to his cell. He feels painfully hot in his clothes after their frenzied coupling. His mind is too fuzzy to notice immediately that when his cell is unlocked, Matthew follows.

Everything happens quickly. Will is laid out on his cot and his jumpsuit is unbuttoned, his arms gently tugged out of the sleeves so it can be rolled down around his waist. The prisoner closes his eyes and lets his breathing even out. He hears Matthew moving about, the squeak of the sink handles followed by running water. Soon, Matthew returns to Will’s side and a cool, damp wash cloth blots away sweat on his forehead. Then it is pressed gently on either side of his neck and then each cheek until his face feels cool. Will’s eyes flutter open as the washcloth is laid across his forehead.

“Still awake? Maybe I need to take you for a ride this time.” Matthew utters, offering a small smirk. They both chuckle softly, and Will lets his eyes close as the nurse begins to rub slow circles on his chest. His body becomes heavy as every muscle relaxes, and he is almost certain Matthew is humming, but it is such an unobtrusive noise that he can’t stay conscious long enough to be sure. Sleep takes him, and he welcomes it with great relief. There are no nightmares. His sleep is completely dreamless. It’s the most rested he has felt in ages.


End file.
